


dimly lit, deep blue ice

by fineosaur



Series: Arya x Gendry Week 2019 [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Arya and Gendry reunite after years of separation, Arya x Gendry Week 2019, Canon Compliant, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mentions of Rape, axgweek2019, forgesex, so as to give them more time together afterwards, the sad sad "i can be your family" scene is referenced, they also manage to talk more rather than just flirt and joke, they have sex on the day they reunite, they're so in love, until 8x01, why did we not get more convo time between them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-19 13:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20210386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fineosaur/pseuds/fineosaur
Summary: A conversation about the past, long unspoken feelings and longing become unveiled to push Arya and Gendry to express themselves while death approaches.





	dimly lit, deep blue ice

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: **Reunion**

It had been years, many uncounted years that had slowly begun to fade away. Seeing him ride, ever unsteady upon horseback, felt like seeing a ghost. The feeling sent chills down her spine but it also gave her pause. Nothing would prepare her for it, seeing him pass by her, not even noticing her amongst the crowd. She believed him dead, decided long ago against thinking too deeply about him. He was just another person she loved and lost, there were many of those hidden in the recesses of her mind. He was here now, in Winterfell, awaiting death like the rest of them.

Arya chose to meet her old friend late in the night, choosing to keep her day for reuniting with her brother and sorting out her own things. In theory it was a good idea, the anticipation for it, not so much. Before letting her presence be known to him, she watched him, from the shadows of the forge. It felt much like it was before, back when she was just a reflection of the person she was now, a young girl barely tainted by the scars of death. It seemed he was too, a reflection of the boy she once knew. He was completely at home in the Winterfell forge, aside from the layers of clothing he was donning. He looked sure and confident, less like the boy who didn’t know who didn’t know where he belonged or who he chose to serve. He was stronger now, more smith than apprentice.

After pouring molten obsidian into a mold, he turned at the mention of his name. Gendry grabbed a dragon glass axe, she studied the weapon that was clearly his work and watched him hand it to yet another ghost. Years after she’d left him to die, taken him off her list, there he was, plain as day _The Hound_. Arya’s attention was focused on Gendry, the look he gave her when she spoke up against The Hound, watching the look of pride spread across his scarred face. She watched Gendry shift, take a step back and gaze at her in shock. Perhaps he felt the same as she did, a turbulent of emotions from seeing someone you loved and lost come back to life. Whilst the wound of him abandoning her and being taken away was fresh, she told herself she hated the bullheaded boy. She mourned the loss of him but felt the incandescent anger of their last proper conversation.

_”I never had a family.” He had told her as she prepared herself to walk away from him._

__

_She turned around, face stinging with the tears she was holding back. “I can be your family.” Arya had offered it all to him. Family, duty, honour, those were her mother’s words afterall._

__

_”You wouldn’t be my family, you’d be my lady.” The words that tore it all apart, the wall he had always set between them. The reminder that they were **different**. She left before he could see her tears roll down her cheeks, his pained eyes from that night were seared into her mind._

The dim light of that cave had illuminated the blue rings of his irises, that image had started to fade, until now. The forge was lit much like the cave, he may have grown in height and build but his eyes, they were the same. The eyes from the recesses of her mind were now in plain view, watching her with admiration, this time, as the torches flickered in the background. 

Talking to him was something she never thought she’d experience again, it was hard to keep her composure although she went through rigorous training just to do so. Then he said it, _”As you wish, milady.”_ He knew what that phrase meant, he grinned at her when saying it. She giggled, barely able to contain her smile, _she had missed him oh so terribly_. She left after asking him to make her weapon, after blatantly flirting with him, shocking even him.

Arya returned to the forge a few hours later. The castle was sleeping, or trying to, she was doubtful that anyone would manage a proper sleep when the imminent threat of death itself was on the outskirts of Last Hearth. As expected, Gendry was still in the forge, fire still blazing behind him. This time he had shed his layers and was comfortably in a cotton shirt and cloak. It was clear he was meant to be on his way to bed, the grease and soot was no longer clinging to every available surface of his skin. He passed his hand over his head, something he did a lifetime ago, when his hair was all thick, shaggy and black, now a close cropped cut. She watched him place several daggers in a pile on one of the worktables then turn away, she decided to slowly make her presence known. 

Fiddling with the daggers stacked on the workbench, she watched Gendry turn in search of the source of the noise, relaxing at the sight of her. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” He asked her, looking down at the daggers in front of the two of them. They were on opposite sides of the table, he looked at her awaiting her answer. “I thought you were dead, for so many years.” He told her, his tone was sombre.

”I could say the same thing, considering the way you were taken.” She twirled one of the dragon glass daggers in her hand.

”I expected to be, I could thank Ser Davos everyday for being here today.” 

”Guess I should thank him as well.”

The silence between them permeated to her skin, her hairs stood up at the way he eyed her. She watched him walk around the workbench and stand near her. “You look different, but the same. It’s how I would have expected.” He said, his blue eyes gazing in hers.

”What do you mean?” Her voice came out breathy and hardly comprehensive.

His face inched closer to hers. “I guess the _you look good_ from earlier didn’t impart much?”

Arya watched his eyes dart down to her lips, watching as she bit on it. “Why did you leave? _Why are you back now?_”

Gendry’s composure settled as he leaned on the bench, looking away from her. “It’s been so many years, but I know we left things badly. Me getting taken away didn’t help that.”

”What did she want with you?” Arya finally asked, trying not to say the name of the woman on her list.

”She needed my blood, for some spell.” He still wasn’t looking at her, his face was in thought, traumatic memories seeming to affect him sordidly.

”Why yours?” Arya prodded, it was hard to continue her interrogation when he sounded so pained.

”She needed the blood of a king. She stripped me naked and put leeches on my cock because I’m Robert Baratheon’s bastard.” He confessed, his tone a mixture of anger and pain as he finally glanced at her face.

Arya couldn’t help the gasp that escaped her lips as she examined him properly.

”I was young and I was stupid and she took advantage of that. To this day I cannot thank Davos enough for getting me out of there before she got the chance to burn me alive.” He scowled and shook his head, looking away from her.

Taking a step forward, Arya took his face in her hands. His eyes closed at the feeling of her palms on his face. “Look at me.” His eyes opened, flickers of blue visible in the sombre light. “My father knew.” Her voice was barely audible. Thoughts lost to the nooks of her mind clicked together as she remembered her father. _’We’ve come to a dangerous place’_. Without thinking, she tilted her head upwards and kissed him. His hands found their way to the small of her back, pulling her closer.

Gendry pulled away, his forehead rested on hers as his eyes looked back into hers. “I’m still a bastard, still just a smith.” She could feel him putting his walls back up, those walls he always set in place to remind them of their different social standings. The _’miladys’_, the_ ‘too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high’_.

”I don’t care. I never cared.”

Arya watched the conflict glaze his eyes before he gave in, kissing her deeply, this time with less resistance. “I never thought I’d see you again.” He admitted breathily. “I never thought I’d get to do this.” Gendry pulled her tightly against him, his hands trailing down the fabric of her breeches before lifting and placing her onto the workbench. 

Her heart fluttered at his display and urgency. Arya wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to make as little distance as possible between the two of them. “Gendry, I want to know how it feels. _I want you_.” She confesses as his lips trailed on the tiny expanse of exposed skin of her neck.

His movements stilled, his head rose to look at her properly. “Are you sure?”

Arya nodded in response. 

”Have you ever done this?”

”Have you?” 

“After escaping Dragonstone, in King’s Landing. A few times.” He nodded. 

She began unlacing his shirt, pulling it over his head, his cloak fell and his dexterous fingers unlaced hers. He lifted her off the table and set her down, placing his cloak on the bench before lifting her back onto it. The gesture sent ripples in her stomach making her pull him closer. Arya glanced at his eyes, the forge fire danced on his irises, the blue of them being engulfed by his dilating pupils. She kissed him again, pulling back for a moment as she lifted her shirt off. His eyes ogled her scars, thumb tracing them lightly before leaning down to kiss them. She tilted her head back, the feeling of his lips on her making her head spin. She felt the stubble on his jaw graze against her breast as he brought his lips back to hers. Their tongues sparred as she wrapped her legs around him tighter hearing him groan as his arousal brushed against her thigh.

Arya felt his hands on her naked torso, his calloused hand trailed to her breast, thumb tracing the curve. His eyes shot up to gauge her expression as his thumb twirled her nipple. Her breath hitched and she bit her lip, watching his lips curl into a smile. He continued longer, paying attention to her breasts in ways she couldn’t have imagined would bring her such pleasure. Gendry’s hand travelled further up, his index and middle finger traced the shape of her lips. She opened her mouth slightly, allowing his fingers to slide into her mouth before he removed them again.

He moved the hand beneath her already unlaced breeches, ghosting his warm fingers over her folds before teasing her entrance. She whined as his fingers trailed back up her folds and down again, this time slipping a finger into her. Arya bucked her hips, bracing her hands on the workbench as he curled his long finger. Gendry’s pale blue eyes remained on her face, gaining purchase from her half lidded reactions.

Gendry added a second finger, curling the both of them and pumping again. Arya moaned at the actions of his fingers, barely holding onto her sanity. When his thumb pressed against her clit, she threw her head back, moaning his name. He pulled her tightly against him, kissing her and drinking her tongue before pulling away to watch her reach her climax. 

Breathing heavily, Arya slumped onto Gendry. He left kisses over her exposed neck and shoulder before she took his face in her hands and began kissing him. Her tongue slipped past his lips, gliding against his as she wrapped her legs tightly around him. She moved her left hand to palm him through his breeches, feeling his tongue still as she traced the length of his hard member.

Moments later, Arya began unlacing his trousers, slipping her hand beneath the fabric to touch him. Gendry pulled away from her lips and studied her face. His eyes fluttered, every now and then revealing his dark, love and lust filled eyes. “Are you sure you want this?” Gendry asked her breathily. 

”I want you. I need you, Gendry.”

At the sound of her consent, Gendry worked on pulling off Arya’s breeches. He was aided with her lifting her hips off the cloak covered bench, revealing her lean, pale legs, littered in scars. His hands travelled from calves to thigh, feeling the hairs that stood up and the goosebumps they left in their trail upon her legs. 

He pulled her into another searing kiss before lifting her hips closer to his. Arya pulled his breeches down until his length was revealed to her, clearly hard and wanting. She took him in her left palm, pumping a few times before his own hand stopped her. “If you continue that, I will hardly last.” His voice was hoarse and his breathing heavy. 

Gendry lined his head with her entrance, eyes glancing into hers before slowly easing into her. His movements were slow and torturous. When he was fully sheathed, he remained in place, unmoving. His forehead rested on hers as their heavy breaths mingled. “Gendry, please.” Arya let out, voice strangled with need. She rolled her hips in suggestion, hearing Gendry’s moan in response. 

His hand held onto her waist while the other cradled her thigh. He thrusted into her, gently, slowly building up his rhythm. Arya’s nails dug into his exposed shoulders as her arms wound themselves around him. Her moans and chants of his name spurred him on, making his thrusts harder. “Arya.” He breathed. “I’ve missed you.” His lips were on hers again, her thoughts were barely coherent. The only thing occupying her mind was the feeling of his calloused hands on her naked skin and the thought of the two of them joining as one.

Arya and Gendry found themselves entwined in eachother on the forge floor. Arya’s cloak was shedded and placed beneath them as they were cocooned in Gendry’s. She felt his hand blindly tracing the scar that marked her abdomen. “How did this happen?” He asked her, tentatively.

”If we live, I’ll bare all my scars to you and explain how I got them.” She started, turning her head to kiss his bare chest lightly. “For now, I want to lie here in your arms and try to forget that death is approaching.”

Arya’s fingers traced circles on Gendry’s chest, where there was not a light spattering of hair on his chest, there were mottled scars she could distinguish as burn marks. Marks that she’d remember as unique to Gendry, her smith, the man she loved. Now that she had found him again, she, yet again, had so much to lose. Gendry represented life and they were about to meet death, Arya felt an array of emotions. _Dread, love, loss, fear_ and more countless ones she could hardly find a word for. _Fear cuts deeper than swords_, she told herself as she nestled herself closer to Gendry, choosing to enjoy the warm and promise he provided.

* * *

Arya awoke, still naked as her nameday, wrapped in Gendry’s strong arms. She reluctantly pulled herself out of the security his arms had always provided. Her skin prickled as she rose up, out of the cloaks, searching for her clothing. After reordering herself, she chose to abandon her cloak, kissing the top of Gendry’s head, his black hair a lot less surly than it was when it was a black mop. She missed it, but she knew neither of them were the same as the kids they once were. Arya knew that she still loved the man he had become and if she lived, she’d tell him. For now, she walked through the castle, making her way back to the duties that awaited her, leaving Gendry to his days swarmed with smithing.

Despite the uncertainty for a future, Arya found herself thinking of what her future could be, if she could have one. Long ago she had told her father that being a lady, being a wife to a lord, having said lord’s children was _not her_. That was still true, _no that’s Sansa_, she remembered thinking. Neither her nor Sansa was that anymore though, _the winters are hard but the Starks will endure, we always have_ and they did. Now that everything was coming to an end, Arya was not sure what would happen after she was done enduring. Who was meant to be there to pick up the pieces the world had broken them into? It had been 8 years, but she missed her family with each passing day. Jon too was a fraction of the boy she had once known, the brother who mussed her hair and hugged her. He had always brooded, but now, the pain etched on his face did not look like one that could be erased. Bran, an empty shell of the little brother she’d mess with. Winter was here and the Starks endured, but who were they now that they had been separated from their pack for so long? Unanswered questions flittered through her mind, _these would be questions to be asked after the Long Night_. 

* * *

When it was known that the Army of the Dead would be at Winterfell before dawn, Arya knew she wanted to spend her last possible moments of peace with one person in particular. She made her way to the forge, not even the roaring fire could seem to ease the ice in her veins that warned her of death’s ever looming presence. She was met with her surly blacksmith. She watched from the shadows as he tested out the balance of the weapon she had requested him to forge.

”Come out. I think it’s ready.” Gendry voiced out. His knowledge of her skulking surprised her, given that his back was facing her.

”How did you know?” Arya revealed herself from the darkness, his body still hadn’t turned to face her. He was still inspecting the weapon.

”Because, I know you.” His response was vague and hardly enough to appease her, but she let it go. _Now was not a time to act tetchy_. “Here.” Gendry finally faced her, handing her the weapon.

Arya took the staff, eyeing him before taking her time to study the weapon. His face looked soft in the forge’s dying fire, his blue eyes reminded her of the summer snows, icy yet accompanied with a certain warmth. Testing the staff, Arya twirled the weapon, swung it back and forth in her water dancer stance to see if the balance was right. It was, of course it was, Gendry had made it after he was still resonating from their night of passion. “This’ll probably do.”

”Probably do? I’m sure a lady like you could do better than that. If you’re trading that valyrian steel blade of yours for it, it’s got to be more than that.” Gendry teased.

”I’m not trading anything.” Arya countered, setting her staff on the workbench.

She hadn’t realised how cold she was, considering that she had forgone her cloak. Her eyes still trailed on her weapon, watching as the black dragon glass glimmered in the light of the forge. Suddenly she felt him wrap his cloak around her shoulders, shrouding her in the fur lined garment. The feeling of Gendry behind her, pulling her closer into his chest was comforting. Despite the danger approaching, Arya felt oddly at ease. “If we die, I want you to know that I am sorry. For not staying by your side, for leaving you because of my bloody pride.” He told her softly. She could not see his face but she could hear the sincerity of his apology.

Arya turned to face him, choosing to remain wrapped in the warmth of his arms as she said her piece. “I’m sorry I didn’t kill the red woman before she took you.”

She watched him wince at the memories the mention of his assaulter. “I was stupid.” He shook his head.

”But that didn’t excuse it. It didn’t excuse what she did to you.”

”Davos told me- he told me I had a cousin. A young girl, Shireen. That woman, she burned her alive and my _uncle_ watched. As his daughter burned to a crisp.” The pain on his face was visible, despite the low light.

”It happened, there are horrible people. If it helps, she’s on my list.”

”What if Davos hadn’t saved me though? Would that girl still live?” The question sounded like one he had probably asked himself numerous times.

”It happened for a reason, yes it was terrible but everything happened the way it did and you are not to blame for it.” Arya tried to ease the lines on his face with her thumb. He relaxed with her touch. “This may as well be our last night and I want to spend it with you and the thoughts you bring me, not to be haunted by the ghosts we’ve lost.”

”You always had a point, eventually.” Gendry teased. He leaned down, the air around them was so cold that their breaths could be seen. She held him tighter, tilting her head up to meet him.

”_Eventually._” Arya giggled. Lifting herself on the bent toes of her boots, she kissed him. His lips were warm, melting the ice that penetrated her veins. “Gendry?”

”Hmm,” he mumbled against her lips.

”I missed you too.” She told him, recalling their coupling the night prior. Gendry pulled Arya closer, his big hand covering her backside beneath his cloak. He slipped his tongue past her lips, kissing her deeply. Arya was consumed with all things Gendry and for once she thought that maybe living wouldn’t be as hard as it had been before.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys are enjoying my fics to celebrate axgweek!!  
here's just a brief overview for those who want to read the upcoming fics i'll be posting the rest of the week.  
monday, august 12th - Marry Me Now - **“smith’s apprentice or lord”**  
tuesday, august 13th - Reunion - **“dimly lit, deep blue ice”**  
wednesday, august 14th - Just Get Naked & Let’s Run Away - **“it’s impractical”**  
thursday, august 15th - Don’t Lie to Me -** “homesick”**  
friday, august 16th - I’ll Be There - **“calm as still water”**  
saturday, august 17th - Because I Can - **“i couldn’t utter my love when it counted”**


End file.
